


Another Life Time

by VeryWrongEverything



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Human, Break Up, Cheating, F/M, Happy Ending, Middle-aged Aziraphale, Misunderstanding, One Night Stand, Original Characters - Freeform, Rejection, Sexual Content, Young Crowley, and she regretted that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:07:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26711170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeryWrongEverything/pseuds/VeryWrongEverything
Summary: Antonia had a crush on Ezra Fell, the bookshop owner she'd known since her teenage years, but he'd been dodging her feelings for forever.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	1. Phantom Affection

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is a self-indulging piece that will hopefully be around 10 chapters. 
> 
> Hope you'll like this.

Waiting by the exit of the tube station, Antonia was a little jumpy. She chose the soft blouse that she thought hugged her body just right to wear to the performance but wasn't sure if this was too exposing to wear when she was meeting Ezra. The collar of the blouse cut beautifully against her chest, showing off the jutting of her clavicle. She kept stretching her neck to look for the man that was supposed to have met five minutes ago and simply to have something to do to ease her nerves.

Ezra showed up in his usual elegant attire a few minutes later. His round face blushed a little from rushing over. Antonia felt her face heated for her attention on the shade of Ezra's cheeks and endeavoured to divert her focus. He was wearing his usual three-piece suit. His clothes. A cream suit jacket over an olive waistcoat over a baby blue dress shirt, topped with his signature tartan bowtie. The layers fit him and accentuate the body of a middle-aged man so well. Blushed. His hair. His hair fluffed around his head and catching the light of early evening like a soft halo around him. Blushed harder. His voice. His voice soft and velvety and gentle and sounded so closed. Blushed harder still. Antonia registered suddenly that the gentle tone was directed towards her and snapped out of her obsessive checking-Ezra-out session immediately.

"My dear, are you quite alright?" The blonde asked softly with a worried frown.

"Of course," Antonia smiled shyly, secretly thankful for incorporating sunglasses as part of her signature look. "No worries."

"Had I made you wait too long in this heat? You cheeks are quite pink," Ezra tilted his head to one side in the most adorable manner. _Who gave that man the right to look so innocent in his age_? Antonia shouted internally. _How am I supposed to not be flustered in front of this_?

"Do you still fancy dinner before the show?" Antonia asked instead, having no faith in herself had the focus be on her for any longer. She would melt into a happy puddle under Ezra's concerning gaze. They went to a nearby café for some light dinner and saved the young woman the embarrassment of rendering into a pudding brain. After an exciting examination of the menus, Ezra ordered himself a plate of pasta while Antonia asked for black coffee.

"My dear, how are you drinking coffee at this hour," the man frowned at her when hearing the order.

"'m staying up for study after the play," the young woman shrugged, secretly enjoying the attention when Ezra flipped through the menu again, brows knitted and the tip of his tongue peeked out the tiniest bit in concentration.

"I must insist you have something to eat, young lady. Let's get you a sandwich at least," he looked up to the waiter standing by the table. "We will have a grilled chicken sandwich, please."

The rest of the meal was as much of torture as Antonia had expected. Watching Ezra's tiny wiggles when he enjoyed his meal and primly dabbing of his lips, which were reddened from their previous activities made her inside pooled with affections. Antonia picked at her sandwiches, nibbled on bits of chicken, and listened to Ezra's chatter of his day. It felt domestic. She did her best to ignore the fact that she only got this kind of interactions with Ezra once or twice every year. Apparently, going out with the middle age bookshop owner who had known you weren't an appropriate activity for college students like Antonia, or rather, meeting up with the young woman who you've known since her teenage years wasn't a decent activity for self-respecting middle-aged bookshop owners like Ezra.

Antonia said nothing. She knew better than to let this moment slip.

* * *

When the light faded out around them, Antonia suddenly felt her senses heightened. Ezra's presence became inordinately distracting beside her. His scent oozed out and swirled deliciously around her, his warmth scalded her right at the spot where their arms touched, and his breathing swallowed her whole as it punctuated the silent anticipation before the curtains were drawn.

Antonia's senses were overwhelmed when the music started and bright limelights tore the single central focus of hers. She had seen way too many productions of _Medea_ and still loved it. Ezra said he happened to have two tickets and insisted that she should rewatch it. _Perspectives changed as you grow,_ or wise bullshit, he said, and Antonia was only too happy to have any reason, at all, to spend time with Ezra.

Soon after the play started, Antonia found herself lost in the performance and only registered Ezra's presence when the curtains drew once again for the intermission. Before the light was lit, Ezra shifted a little in his seat, causing the seat Antonia was in to shift as well. It couldn't have been more normal. People shifting in their seats and other seats in the same row moved accordingly all the time. Her back leaned back with the shifting and the fabric of her jeans was pulled by the velvet surface under her, causing an intense stimulation against her core. Antonia felt the air punched out of her lungs by how her body reacted to the sudden movement.

The arousing sensation haunted her for the rest of the performance. Whenever she found herself lost in the play, she would soon sense a shift in Ezra's posture and a thrilling arousal shot through her.

Thankfully, the play ended before Antonia died out of embarrassment in her seat.

As Ezra stirred in his chair by the end, Antonia had to bit her lips to remind herself that this should not have happened. She should not want to moan because the man sitting next to her moved in his chair. She had never reacted to others like this and she shouldn't now. When she looked up, letting her poor lower lips go, Ezra was looking at her with his beautiful blue eyes, twinkling, if a bit sad. "It's fantastic," he said quietly, moving to stand up from his seat. "Everything alright, my dear?" There was no way Antonia could have explained herself, so she gave a quiet nod and stood up.

* * *

"This play reminded me of the pain of being betrayed, you know?" On their stroll back to the tube station, Ezra spoke with a casual tone. Antonia didn't know. Ezra wasn't big on telling his stories. However much Antonia treasured every shred of information of Ezra, she still knew much less than she would have like to about the man.

"Betrayed?" She asked, waiting for Ezra to say more.

"People like you shouldn't have to know about that," he said quietly. Antonia pondered on the sentence for the rest of the way.

As they moved closer toward the tube station, Antonia felt more difficult to focus on the words coming from Ezra's lips. They're probably not going to spend time together for quite sometimes, she realised and the realisation flooded her with a strong sense of loss. She so desperately wanted to stay beside this lovely man, so wise, kind and beautiful. _Oh, how beautiful he was tonight,_ she found herself exclaiming internally and wonder whether someone had told him that he was beautiful today and felt a pang of jealous shot through her heart at the thought.

"Thanks for coming with me tonight, Antonia," under the streetlights, Antonia looked up to Ezra's blonde curls glowing softly in the pale yellow light. It became too overwhelming all of a sudden for her and words came out before she knew it.

"You look beautiful, Ezra," she said matter-of-factly and Ezra's eyes, _those beautiful blue eyes with a tad of grey_ , widened. The expressive gaze sent the alarms off in Antonia's mind. _She had said the wrong thing. She had ruined the night._ She hurried to smooth things out. "Even in that ridiculous bowtie, you know. Which year do you think this is, old man."

The older man did not buy it. He looked at the girl with concerns.

"You should hang out with people your age more. It'll do you a world of good, Antonia," he settled with soft murmurs instead. "Spending time with a stodgy middle-aged man will do you no good."

 _Is this goodbye?_ Antonia's heart pounded so hard against her ribcage, it hurt. She wanted to run away. She wanted to still hold onto the hope that they might meet up again someday. She wanted to bathe in the glorious kindness of the man who had become such a big part of her life for almost a decade. However false the hopes were, she needed them to still feel the breaths and heartbeats.

"It's not like I have a choice. Hypersensitive senses. I've gotta hold my breath when I'm physically too close to people." _And whenever I see you_ , she didn't dare say but couldn't stop her treacherous mind.

"I worry about you," Ezra sighed. He looked sad. _Would he feel sad for not seeing me again?_

"You don't have to," she snorted. "I take good care of myself."

"Well," Ezra uncharacteristically shrugged. "In that case, take good care of yourself and we'll meet up again soon."


	2. Fake Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antonia listened to Ezra and met up with an "old friend"...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably should warn you about the impulsive quick fuck Antonia got herself into. She was trying to fix things but it's not helping. There are some crude actions and language there.

Antonia was angry.

She was properly anger and upset about herself. _What was she supposed to think of what Ezra said? How is she still so far away from Ezra?_ She wanted to be loved, preferably by Ezra.

Antonia had known Ezra since the end of her teenage years. The years where she was lost and lonely (well, she still felt lost and lonely a lot now, but she's supposed to be too old for that) she spent hiding in a certain bookshop she found when she ran from home in her senior year in high school. Things were bad. She was struggling with her grades, coming up with application documents, and staying on good terms with her parents. All she wanted to do was run, which was still on the top of her list now, but she's too old for that as well.

Amidst the people walking with their heads down, Antonia felt invisible. She still felt directionless, but less exposed, and safer. Then she couldn't move her feet when the bookshop came into her sight. It was a warm looking bookshop operating in the oddest hours. She looked at the paper on the window which was supposed to be the opening hours of the bookshop but looked like a riddle instead and decided to trust the opening sign which looked like antique-like the rest of the shop.

Antonia didn't read much, not really, but she walked into the shop anyways. A strong smell of aged paper and dust flooded her nose, making her sneeze. Between the bookshelves she wandered, keeping a hand on her nose to stop herself from sneezing full force but settle with small but constant snorts.

"Why do people not understand the operation hours!" She heard someone walking closer, huffing petulant complains as he padded.

"Sorry, I saw the opening sign and come in!" To catch her sneeze on time, she accidentally shouted the last word. "Sorry!" Again.

"Poor girl, it must be all the dust on the old books! Come sit here. I'll bring you tea." The man hurried over with a concerning frown and soft orders, all the annoyance he just muttered gone.

Antonia was guided to those same windows that leaked warming lights she just saw from the outside. _Of course he would, being the kind and generous man that he'd always been_ , she remembered the care she received, the first time in a long while, and when she saw the bookshop owner back, with a delicate teacup in his hand, Antonia never escaped from Ezra's charm since then. She had stared at the perfectly wide waist spreading a little as the man sit and the thick and strong wrists poking out from the cuffs as he fussed with them. She didn't know the man's name and identity, but she didn't care at the time and of course Ezra politely introduced himself later.

So that's that. A path she went on and never looked back.

She came back to the bookshop again and again for the next few years. They had an arrangement, securing Antonia a couch by the window to study if she's willing to (falsely) play dumb with the register and annoy the hell out of the customers who were interested in purchasing the precious first editions from Ezra's shelves. As it turned out, customers were less insistent when the one struggling was a red-haired young lady with delicate freckles on the bridge of her nose. Most of them would mutter some resemblance of "thank God you're pretty" under their breath and give up. Antonia would take the book to the backroom where Ezra's reading and Ezra would shelf the book on a more inaccessible location when he was done with the reading.

Her affection for Ezra grew as they spent more time together. The fussy bookshop owner graced her with a soft smile or an appreciative nod once in a while and hung a silly smile on her face for an entire afternoon. Ezra sometimes recited poems to her, making her heart pound against her ribs harder than it should. Antonia craved small touches and brushing of shoulders as they both moved around in the bookshop. Everything went well and Antonia felt like belonging somewhere for the first time in her life.

The reality hit hard later. She had always wanted to be as far from her family as possible and had applied for college anywhere but in England. Antonia had always thought that she'd give up anything to run away, but as the departure approached, she wondered if she'd give up everything to stay close to Ezra.

She left, though. So that's that.

And now she's back. Starting her career at a news agency based in London, writing articles, or spreading foment, which she thought was a more apt description of her job. Trying to reconnect with Ezra after looking forward to it for years and he now told her to make friends of her own age.

That's what she did. She'd listen to him regardless of what he said. She would never disappoint him on purpose. She would try and get hurt curl back into her weak self and Ezra might take pity on her and allow her to stay.

* * *

Antonia curled her bright red hair to an almost dramatic fashion and sat herself down in the booth in which her date and she agreed to meep up. It had been a while since she and Luke last met and she wasn't entirely sure it's a good idea the more she thought of it. She stared with half-lidded eyes at the door and the people that came pass that door. She wasn't invested in this enough to be fully present.

It was not a fancy bar. Most guys opted for t-shirts and casual shirts over jeans. _Sloppy_ , Antonia snorted in her mind which quickly drifted to the image of a certain blonde fussing with his cufflinks and waistcoat. She loved the formal attire of Ezra. Sure, more often than not the man was overdressed, but she loved that. The formality constructed a sense of authority that had always made her fingertips tingle.

 _You're not doing this to yourself, not anymore. Not when all he wanted is you to be gone._ She scolded under her breath when a broad hand was extended to her from the man who sat himself down in the booth across her.

"Antonia?" he smirked, shaking Antonia's hand and pulling his hand away draggingly. "It's Luke."

Antonia nodded.

"It's been a while. I almost didn't recognise you, but you looked cute, Annie. Edgier than I expected, but still," he raked over her figure with predatory eyes, "cute."

"Antonia," she sat back uncomfortably. _Cute_ is not what she was going for. It's one of the ridiculous four-lettered words she wanted nothing to do with. _Cute, good, nice,_ uhhh... She had wrapped herself in skin-tight trousers and an unbuttoned blouse over a strap top, cutting right above where her breasts were and leaving the hollow of her clavicle on display. "Not a big fan for nicknames or cuteness."

"Annie's cute," Luke insisted. "You can be an Annie. Wait here," and left to order drinks.

He came back with a faint stain of lip gloss on his cheek and the girliest cocktail Antonia had ever seen, pink fading into baby blue and with a stripy straw. She had always been up for a beer or G&T, depending on her mood, but had never fancied cocktails. That's not her thing but Luke put it down in front of her as if he wanted her to drink that anyways and slid into the seat beside her, squishing her a little.

"Come on, be a good girl," he smiled smugly, hand ghosting on her ribs, at the lower edge of her bras. Antonia did not like this, but _feeling something is better than feeling nothing_ , she decided and pressed sideways into the man.

Luke was wearing a too shiny leather jacket and styling his hair with too much product, but the man smelled nice enough and was sporting some stubbles that would have stolen Antonia's breath had they been on Ezra's cheeks. His hold on the side of her chest grew firmer and higher, and she let him. She wondered if she would pretend it was Ezra if she closed her eyes. The man spoke, however, and she cursed inwardly.

"What do you want, pretty thing?" Luke's voice was raspier than Ezra's. _She should really stop thinking about the man who wasn't here_ , Antonia reminded herself. _She cannot have him. The man had made his point clear. Make friends of your own age, he said. But could she ignore what she wanted?_

"Talk to me, you pretty thing, what do you want?" He pinched the underside of her breast playfully. _She cannot. She wanted one thing and she had always wanted that._

"I want to be loved," she whispered before her sanity could have caught that craziness. She was too desperate to think about the fact that she's telling her deepest wish to a man that had been cruel to her. The man that had left her to grasp _the possibility of being happier_ , as he put it. "I want to know you'll be by my side even if I did something wrong."

"You're talking about unconditional love, Annie," Luke replied condescendingly. "That's not why you called, is it? And there is no such thing, you know it. We will have sex, heated. But you'll have to be good to earn that," he scrapped his teeth on the soft flesh behind her ear and snorted when Antonia shivered.

That's how she ended up here, on the cold hard tiles of Luke's flat, on her knees, with Luke's cock in her mouth. Antonia's cold. Her blood-red blouse hanging on her elbows. Goosebumps climbing up to her forearms and fingers, which clung onto the waistband of Luke's jeans.

"Good, up, up," Luke pulled out from the sore mouth of hers and dragging Antonia towards the bed in a sloppy motion. He sank two fingers into her pussy and she sucked in a breath in pain.

"How are you so dry still? Haven't you seen someone and fix it all these years?" He muttered, rubbing at her clit violently.

Pain shot through Antonia and she jerked away from the hand between her legs, forcing herself to hold back the tear. _How did she forget how bad it was? Was she really so desperate?_ She decided that backing off wasn't a choice anymore. She already felt like a slut, might as well be fucked for it instead of crying herself to sleep with an unsatisfied libido. She squirmed nervously when Luke moved to roll the plastic on himself.

"There's lube on the condom," Luke announced and settled between her legs. He sank in, bracing his own weight on his elbows on either side of Antonia, who yelped in pain and tried to sit up.

"No sitting up," he scolded, readjusting his cock between her legs. "Your stomach has folds when you do that. It looked horrible and it's not helping. I'll handle it."

"Should I lay still?"

"I don't know, just don't move," he pushed in again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I hate Luke   
> Probably channelled too much personal anger into the character QAQ

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think ;)


End file.
